Paradise Lost
by Koakuma Tsuri
Summary: 56/100: Relax. It was summer on the beach and Genesis was ready to lose his mind. Sephiroth/Genesis. Yaoi. Lemon-ish. Mild crack. Pre-CC.


56/100: Relax. Sephiroth/Genesis.  
I don't know where this idea came from. Perhaps the preternaturally hot weather we've been experiencing in England lately. Oh yeah, and reading the Gay Times in WHSmiths. XD  
I'd like to dedicate this to the lovely Georgie, because she looooves it. And PR'ed it for me.

Disclaimer - Characters are not mine. And you can sue me if you want, but you'll only get an empty can of coke.

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Relax**

Paradise Lost

In the immensely popular ShinRa holiday resort of Costa del Sol, there were certain small beaches that suited those of a different… persuasion. On first glance they were identical to the others behind the high groynes; yellow sand baked in the sun as clear blue water lapped calmly at its edge. Tranquillity swept on for as far as any eyes could see, merging with the cloudless sky at the end of the world. Paradise away from the busy Mako Capital.

At the first sign of dawn, the beach was made hospitable for the day. Large, violet striped umbrellas and deckchairs of the same fabric and colour were set out, equally spaced, far enough to give desired privacy. Then, as the sun climbed higher and higher on its daily path across the blue sky, people ventured out from the neat, air conditioned apartments that lined the beach, facing out to the sea. Their walls were painted the colour of the sand to reflect the sun and further the illusion of endless paradise. Interiors were pure white - apart from one - as a formality because all of them, apart from a few, were available for all ShinRa employees with the salaries to support the rental fees.

The one apartment, different from all the others, even the president's on the other side of the limitless beach, was decorated to suit the tastes of the one who had bought both it and the surrounding beaches in a moment of selfishness disguised as generosity. It enjoyed a private beach with the softest sand and crystal clear water.

All furniture was red or black; the kitchen tops were black marble and scarlet doors and tiles matched the work surfaces. Perhaps not the best design for a place where the sun shone all hours of every day without doubt… but it was the heat that made things so much better.

Never the morning person, it amused Sephiroth to see just how much a vacation (and a five hour lie-in) affected Genesis' mood soon after waking. Instead of the usual frown and grumbles that refined over the course of the morning into the pleasant, sophisticated tones and dramatics that Genesis was renowned and admired for world-wide, Sephiroth had enjoyed a verbose, comprehensible conversation over breakfast.

This all-too-short week-long break was promising to be quite spectacular, if things continued the way they started last night. Sephiroth recalled with a narrow, conceited smile as his lover grabbed a soft, red velveteen cushion to make his reclining slightly more comfortable. And it would be needed.

Angeal was right. The heat really did change the way Genesis felt and reacted. Whether it be increased sensitivity or just the fact he was finally in a place that matched his disposition, he became a creature driven by desire with a constant need to take and take and take. And he had taken all Sephiroth could give him, but he wanted – needed – more. But the exchange was mutual. He writhed and moaned like he never did; flushed and malleable, he was willing to partake in all of Sephiroth's games of teasing and increasing anticipation until it nearly caused their peak.

As he saw the man watching him, green eyes spilling lecherous thoughts that hung teasingly in the air between them, the redhead flashed his own grin back. The look in his blue eyes was far more smug than normal. Then, with a click of his tongue from the lack of his heels, he was out the door and descending the hot, stone steps down to the beach. His steps were flighty and almost irregular. The sun-roasted rock was probably a shock to his bare feet, accustomed to cool tiles, but it was well hidden…

Or Sephiroth was too busy focusing on that body itself. Slim, but not overly so, fleshed out with muscles that gave him something to hold onto, despite the food Sephiroth regularly caught finding its way down Genesis' throat. As always, what he wore was slung lazily and lowly around his hips, exhibiting those exquisite angles that were faintly marred with the healing reminders of red fingers and shallow, crescent indentations. When he had to hold on, Sephiroth had to do it firmly.

Shaking his head, the General dispelled such thoughts and grabbed his towel. It was the best quality that he had ever felt (not that he searched the world, feeling up towels… only the ones that Genesis was wearing). He joined Genesis outside, in the partial shade of one of the huge umbrellas.

The redhead was already lounging around with his ankles crossed and sunglasses covering a vast portion of his upper face and high cheekbones. With a grin he held up a white and orange plastic bottle.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes and dropped his belongings on the adjacent chair, and quickly joined them. "You can't tan, Genesis. Not with the mako in you." It was a sad truth, but gladdened Sephiroth that his famous milky complexion would forever remain that way. He was also joyful to know that Genesis' Banora sun-kissed tan was equally as permanent.

"But," Genesis started, throwing the lotion at the man, "I can burn." He turned onto his back and waited. And when he felt no hands worshipping his back, he oh-so-subtly reminded his lover of just who was paying for this entire holiday. So, sighing, Sephiroth moved himself to straddle Genesis' hips and sat back on his slim, warm thighs.

Genesis purred contentedly and nestled into the chair with his arms folded, supporting his forehead. As the cold, milky white liquid dribbled out from the open cap to create a wavering line from his shoulder blades down to the waistband of his swimming trunks, he whined, turning his head to the side. From the muted glimmer of azure masked behind onyx glass, he was looking directly at Sephiroth. But not for the bitter reasoning that the general had originally anticipated.

He was smiling, full lips parted and glossy but otherwise untouched from the shower that morning.

Keeping this in mind, Sephiroth bent over to capture that haughty mouth with his own. His hands spread lotion generously over Genesis' back. He knew the most sensitive areas, the ones that had the Commander mewling, sneering and grabbing, so he focused on these and relished in the physical responses given.

When his back was suitably protected, his legs completely covered as well after a few teasingly chaste kisses along his inner thighs, Genesis was flipped onto his back with a flex of hardly any effort and pure skill brought through years of practice. Although, the strength and ferocity exerted had the deckchair threatening to collapse.

Not that the two SOLDIERs would've minded. In weather as intense as this, Genesis probably would have loved to writhe in the sand; reduce himself back to a primal form – a beast of the wilderness, driven by instinct to rut like it was the last thing he would ever do. And, as if knowing this, the redhead smirked, warning that maybe that was what he was planning.

Again the lotion was drawn in an intricate pattern across the golden expanse of skin that was presented by Genesis' tastes in beachwear. Sephiroth returned to his teasing application. Genesis mumbled and played along, controlling his body in such a way that made it hard for the General to keep his touches fleeting.

Seeing that struggle on his face made Genesis' expression that little bit more contented, blue eyes gleaming visibly from behind their confines.

"I am a genius for buying this place," he grinned and rolled his head back to close his eyes, losing himself in here and now for the first time in what felt like forever. There were too many duties and responsibilties hanging from his shoulders when at ShinRa, too many lives on tangled strings around his fingers. It was heaven to let go. He could feel the tension being caressed out of his muscles by his lover's long, clever fingers. Sephiroth also granted him the silence that let him indulge in his evident love for his own voice. "Private beaches, without the Turks whining about what they stumble upon late at night…"

Sephiroth's lips quirked up. He leant down on the pretence of spreading lotion over Genesis' neck, but hung an inch above his lips. "How anyone could complain about seeing you and Angeal, I can't comprehend."

"Quite," Genesis replied, smirking returning. "There are those who would give their first-born to see it."

"And what would they pay to see us?"

"Oh, everything they have."

With a quiet hum, Sephiroth bridged the gap between them and immediately set to tame the flurry of passion ignited with teeth and tongue. Genesis lifted his hips, brushing none-too-gently against Sephiroth, initiating a fast, hard and unrelenting grind that left them breathless and the deckchair begging for mercy.

"Seph," Genesis gasped repetitively as his hands slipped everywhere over Sephiroth's back; fingers numbing from the heat and extreme sensation. It wasn't just the mako reacting from the sudden exposure to sunlight after so long in the perpetual night of Midgar that made him this way, there was something else, something he never could get his head around. But, he knew one thing: he loved summer. He loved the sun; the beach and _this_.

"Do you want to?" Sephiroth asked – a pointless question. His words were punctuated by sharp nips of Genesis' neck that left a chemical tang on his tongue.

"Not here," the redhead replied. "The sun will drive me insane."

The General smiled a wolfish approval and sounds of appreciation escaped his mouth. He continued his ministrations until the Commander was reduced to nothing but a mewling, submissive reaction. Yes, Genesis was a genius for wasting his life savings and half of his inheritance on this mile-long strip of sand. Now they could enjoy the brighter side of the world whenever the fancy took them and Sephiroth could enjoy a lover that didn't scratch and bite given the slightest glimpse of an opportunity.

"Maybe I'd like that," he whispered in Genesis' ear.

Immediately after that, Sephiroth found himself on his back on the uneven sand; looking straight up into Genesis' face, half obscured in glasses and shadows. The sun behind him lit his hair on fire, more orange than cinnamon, ethereal and utterly gorgeous.

"There'll be nothing left of you," he warned.

Sephiroth smirked, reaching up to thread his fingers into Genesis' hair, starting the process of Genesis grabbing the reins, for once, but still managing to remain in the General's complete, irrevocable control. It would be him to dictate the pace, the rhythm; the actual act of their love itself. "I'd be disappointed if there was."

He turned his head to the side and tried to concentrate on Genesis' weight on his hips and the moist lips trailing down his stomach and hands firmly pumping his erection, seeking a vocation reaction that would not be granted until-

Sephiroth whimpered, mournful like an abandoned animal; green eyes unwillingly fastened to the shadows behind one of the wooden beach huts a dozen yards away. Unseeing, Genesis smirked and continued, brushing this thumb over the slit in the head of Sephiroth's cock when he suddenly felt it begin to soften.

Thoroughly perturbed, Genesis' blue eyes shot crystal-hard, venomous glares at his lover, but then questioned the horror on his face. When he did not respond to either his name or pet names, the redhead lowered himself down to see Sephiroth's line of vision.

And promptly regretted his decision.

That was the caretakers, scientists and pseudo-fathers (or lack thereof) seemingly also enjoying the summer and Genesis newest investment. The SOLDIERs didn't know if it was the sight of the scientists in brightly coloured and garish patterned swimwear or the fact that they were engaged in the same practices as the two young lovers had been only moments previously that had their souls throwing in their lot and falling on their own swords. Repetitively.

"Um," Genesis tried to find his tongue; his voice came out as a quiet, spiritless sob. He blinked furiously, hoping and playing to every deity he had ever come across that this was an effect of a lack of sleep and over-exposure to the midday sun. but every blink just cleared his vision from the haze of pleasure. "Apartment? _Now_?"

And Genesis had never seen anyone move so quickly anywhere as Sephiroth did in that instant. A single word hung in the empty air after the SOLDIERs had retreated like two defeated stags in the height of the season.

"_Yes_,"


End file.
